In the hot summer you can't do anything other than die under the sun among the gaboles and the people
and I no longer know where to go but I don't want these people
where are you? Where are you? Where are you? where are you?
I refresh myself, I take a bath in the sun
I play broom in the school as empty as a shed
I lie down on a loose piano and I ask myself
where are you? Where are you? Where are you? where are you?
Ah, how beautiful this summer is, these people,
all image and then nothing
and no one wants to tell me
where you are
I'll cause massacres but if I look like a loser< br/>sooner or later the same people
call me and tell me where you are...
I'm tired of my own words
here we only do tests
no one knows who become
luckily I saw you
luckily at least you are as you are
as you are... as you are... as you are...
Now this summer is enough,
These people no longer lead me to anything
But what does it matter if you tell me where you are
Just imagine that I dress up as a beggar
I shed tanning tears
And the I'm selling to find out where you are
Hot summer I can't do anything anymore
Here we die with people who
don't know what it means to be together with you
I found you on a yacht shining,
the inconclusive admiral
but who cares if you are near me...

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN